


On Your Knees

by callay



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Missing Scene, Power Dynamics, Rough Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 02:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16008245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: “This,” pants Harrow, his hips snapping forward, his whole body rolling with each thrust, “is your place. Nothing but this.”





	On Your Knees

**Author's Note:**

> Directly follows [That Scene](https://calllay.tumblr.com/post/178116358144/juskla-on-your-knees-fanfic-writers), because obviously I had to try to write this. I'm still trying to figure Viren out...

There’s a moment of stillness, the air thick in the space between Viren on the ground and Harrow looking down at him.

Then Harrow reaches out and puts his hand on Viren’s head. It’s a familiar gesture, heavy with promise. Viren feels it throughout his whole body, a warm weight tumbling slowly through him, forcing his eyes closed, pinning his tongue in his mouth, his knees to the floor.

It’s only for a heartbeat, but he can tell that Harrow noticed it. When he glances up, there’s something smug in Harrow’s grim expression, a familiar triumphant energy in the stiff way he holds himself.

They both recognize this script. Viren can’t help responding to it, an eager darkness creeping through him, making him want to bow further under the force of Harrow’s gaze, to forget everything outside this room.

He glances sideways up at Harrow. “I thought you didn’t want to waste any time.”

Harrow’s eyes are dark, his voice tense. “I’m not asking for your opinion.”

Viren drops his gaze. He had come in here planning to give Harrow everything, but if Harrow thinks he’s too good for Viren’s help, so be it. They can do this instead, turn back to the familiar script between them, as if this one time it will fix things.

Harrow’s hand sits heavy and demanding on Viren’s head. “Maybe you can make yourself useful for once.”

Harrow’s voice is low and firm, but there’s a thrum in it like need. Like desperation. It makes Viren’s pulse quicken. The darkness inside him wants to drink the king’s weakness up like wine.

Harrow thinks this is about power, the king in his golden crown and the servant on his knees. But Viren knows that they’re equals in it: both equally complicit in this, both equally vulnerable. Even the king, for all his pride, is just a man, hungry for a moment’s pleasure.

“Of course, your majesty,” murmurs Viren, leaning in. Reaching up to unlace Harrow’s pants, like the humble servant he is. In the quiet of the room he can hear the tense echo of their breathing.

Harrow is already hard. When Viren pulls aside Harrow’s clothes, his cock springs up tall and thick between them. A hot thrill runs through Viren. Harrow is hard entirely because of Viren, because of the tension binding the two of them, because of the sight of Viren on his knees. The knowledge tastes like power in the back of Viren’s throat.

Viren glances up at Harrow and smiles, sharp and knowing.

Harrow’s eyes flash dark, and he twists his hand painfully in Viren’s hair. “Do it.”

And Viren lets himself lean in to Harrow like a compass needle towards north.

At first he just kisses Harrow, like a servant kissing the king’s ring, his mouth against the blood-hot heat of Harrow’s cock, kissing up the hard swell of his shaft, his lips finding the full head. Open, wet kisses, tasting Harrow’s skin like he’s hungry for it. He hears Harrow take a sharp breath.

He ducks his head lower, kissing the base of Harrow’s shaft, his balls. Pressing in so close that Harrow’s cock slides wetly against his cheek. Darkness curls eagerly inside of him. It’s easy to let the kingdom disappear, the elves, the princes, and feel only this, desire as thrilling and potent as magic, power as inescapable as his knees on the hard ground and Harrow’s hand in his hair.

“Stop wasting time,” growls Harrow.

“If you truly intend for this to be your last night, then you can hardly blame me for wishing to savor it,” murmurs Viren, his words pressed against Harrow’s hot skin.

Harrow pulls Viren’s head up. “You’re my servant. Your wishes don’t matter.”

And he seizes his cock with his free hand and pushes it down towards Viren’s mouth. Viren has no choice but to open his mouth for it, to let it slide heavy over his tongue, fill him up. Heat spills through his veins, something primal and hungry, something eager to be vulnerable and to taste Harrow’s vulnerability in return.

He closes his eyes and starts to suck, his tongue curling against the broad width of Harrow’s cock, his lips tight around the shaft. He slides up and down, letting the push of Harrow’s cock build into a slow, desperate rhythm.

“That’s right,” grits out Harrow, and Viren shudders, breathing a muffled groan around Harrow’s cock. They’re being quiet – there are guards right outside the door. Viren loves the thought of the guard’s ignorance. How impossible it would be those fools to imagine this, their king exposed and shuddering under Viren’s touch.

Viren leans in, his mouth sliding on Harrow, his knees shifting on the floor. He’s hard, too, has been all along. The push of Harrow’s cock into him sends need coursing hot down his throat, curling in his belly and filling his cock, which is trapped, aching, in his pants.

He could reach down and touch himself, but he doesn’t. His wishes don’t matter. Only the king matters, looming above him, tension in his stance, hand gripping Viren’s hair, cock hot and demanding enough to be Viren’s whole world.

“Fuck,” breathes Harrow. “It’s good to know you’re good for something.”

It’s something he used to say as a joke, when they were young, tumbled laughing together in Harrow’s bed. It had made Viren smile, and roll over on top of Harrow, pressing himself against the solid heat of Harrow’s body. “You haven’t proven yourself good for much of anything so far.”

But that was a long time ago. All of that stopped when Harrow got married, because Harrow is an honorable man.

And then a week after the queen died, Harrow pushed Viren to his knees, savage with grief and regret, and said it was his place to serve his king. And something dark and eager surged up inside Viren, something that had been waiting inside him all along.

He’s sure the queen never saw this side of Harrow – he was always so gentle with her. No, it’s only Viren who gets this, all the force of the king’s power burning hot as a brand in his mouth, the king’s gaze watching him as tense as hatred, and beneath it all desire, helpless and vulnerable, something only Viren can sate.

He groans around Harrow’s cock and hears Harrow’s sharp breath. Suddenly both of Harrow’s hands are on Viren, curled around the sides of his head, broad and forceful. Anticipation surges through Viren like lightning.

“Hold still,” growls Harrow.

Viren has no choice. Harrow drives his hips forward, pushing deep into Viren’s mouth. Then again, and again, fucking into him, setting a brutal pace.

Viren can only take it, shuddering at the wet friction of Harrow’s cock between his lips, over his tongue, the thick push of it at the back of his mouth. They’ve done this enough to know the right angle for it, the way Viren has to lean in so that Harrow can push into his throat, the whole full width of him, fucking into him with each jerk of Harrow’s hips.

Viren can’t breathe, can’t move, can only kneel there. Under the punishing rhythm of Harrow’s cock, he feels for a moment like something other than himself. Maybe this is what the soulfang serpent would have felt like, he thinks, the sense of falling out of his body and knowing only Harrow’s.

“This,” pants Harrow, his hips snapping forward, his whole body rolling with each thrust, “is your place. Nothing but this.”

Why would Viren want anything other than this? This is everything, the power to make the king of Katolis come undone, and the dark, helpless thrill of powerlessness, both at once, tied intrinsically together. Viren feels dizzy with it, desperate.

He moans, but the noise is stopped up by the push of Harrow’s cock, and then Harrow is trembling, groaning through gritted teeth, his cock pulsing hot in Viren’s mouth, spilling down his throat as Viren swallows and swallows.

As soon as he’s done, Harrow pulls messily from Viren’s mouth, stumbles over to the bed and sinks down onto it. He’s breathing hard, holding his head in his hands.

Viren stays where he is, dragging in wet breaths, heat still coursing through his body.

It’s like Harrow spent all his force and bravado down Viren’s throat, and Viren can feel the hot swell of it inside him. It’s telling him to take control, to do what he needs to do.

His gaze turns to the basket waiting beside the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [calllay](https://calllay.tumblr.com/post/178145409364/on-your-knees-callay-the-dragon-prince) on Tumblr!


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